


Eyes to the East

by prettylittlepetticoats



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Jon Snow, BAMF Sansa Stark, Endgame Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Eventual Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Game of Thrones Spoilers, Heavy Angst, House Stark, House Targaryen, Jon Snow and Sansa Stark Are Not Related, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Love, POV Jon Snow, POV Sansa Stark, Romance, Slow Burn, Warg Jon Snow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24206788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettylittlepetticoats/pseuds/prettylittlepetticoats
Summary: Sansa Stark flees Kings Landing on the eve of her wedding, just as Jon Snow abandons the wildlings and makes for Castle Black. Sansa goes North, to Jon, for he will keep her safe, he will protect her. But then, where will they go from there? The start of a long journey promises something more.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 72
Kudos: 287





	1. Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> authorsnotes: guuurl, I should update my other fics but damn this one crept up on me.
> 
> timelines will be a bit funky/messed up on this one, I've had to pull some stuff forward and shove some stuff back but timeline changes should be well explained. also, some moments are so unrealistic I can't even justify them so pls just go with it - nothing superweird, but pls don't me that 'character x would not act this way' yah I know but I gotta move things along, those moments will be rare and again justified. also for the rating, it will be eventual m.
> 
> hope you enjoy, if you do pls review, let me know if you'd like this to continue.
> 
> songrecs: I cant pretend- tom odell

The air carried a chill, even South of the Wall he was too far North for there to be any warmth, and yet he barely felt it. His time in the true North, Beyond the Wall had hardened him to the cold perhaps. He saw the wind whip through the trees, felt the last trickles of rain and yet he felt no cold. His wildling furs did a good job of warming him, more than his crow garb, and so he felt no chill as he rode away. Rode away from the tower, his horse riding hard, as he felt blood trickle down his cheeks from Orell’s attack … as he left Ygritte behind.

He loved her, he did, there was no denying that to himself, but not enough. He had thought he loved her with everything he had, still did, but it hadn’t been enough. He had a duty, a duty to Castle Black. He had no doubt once he returned, they would execute him, or exile him if he was lucky, but that didn’t matter, he had sworn a vow before the godswood, he wanted to honour that vow, and he would, and so he rode for Castle Black.

He would not abandon his vow. Once he had almost, but that had been for family. It hadn’t been enough with Ygritte.

_‘Love is the death of duty’_

Maester Aemon had said that once, but perhaps to him, _duty had been the death of love._

He felt a wetness at his eyes as he rode on, and he knew it was more than blood. Had he made the right choice? It disheartened him a little that as soon as he asked himself that question, he knew the answer … _yes_. There had been no choice, he had sworn his vow, pledged himself to his brothers. He may have walked with the wildlings, worn their clothes, and marched with them, hell he had climbed the Wall with them, but he had not been one of them.

_‘Crow’_

Aye, he was a crow, is a crow, and he would not abandon his post. ‘I will live and die at my post, from this night and for all nights to come’. There was very little that would make him break such a vow.

His face stung, but he rode a few good hours before he had to stop, next to a small pond. He dabbed at his wounds with water and let his horse rest. He was dry now, the rain had stopped, and he knew Castle Black wasn’t too far, a few days ride at most. He’d be home soon, home at Castle Black, and he would face whatever judgement they had for him.

He dabbed more water on his cheek, but then he heard something, something subtle, a shifting of feet and he felt someone watching him. He knew who it was without looking up, but when he did lift his gaze, he saw her, hair kissed by fire.

Ygritte, an arrow notched, ready.

 _‘I love you; I know you love me’_ Back and forth, to her he had betrayed, to him he had followed his vows of the nights watch. She looked ready to cry, he already had tears on his cheeks.

She fired one into his leg, and it hurt, he moaned in pain and then he was gone, his horse riding hard for Castle Black, and he felt another arrow fly over his head, but she had missed. She didn’t miss.

And so, he rode away, hard and fast, tears on his cheeks, but not from the pain of the arrow but for the woman he loved, and had left behind, for it hadn’t been enough.

* * *

The hood was pulled hard over her head, to cover every lock of her hair. The large cloak covered her dress, the plainest one she could find in her wardrobe, of grey with a purple pattern. It was too formal, but it had been the best she could do, the cloak was too clean as well but again it was the best she could do. She wore no adornment, only a small dragonfly necklace she had been gifted by her parents for her 10th nameday, once she had swapped it for the one of gold Joffrey had given her, but no longer.

She wore no other jewel, no other adornment, hood up and head down, to blend in.

And thankfully no one had paid her any mind. Perhaps because she kept her gaze on the floor, her bag was hooked under her cloak, and it was an ungodly hour of the morning. Perhaps it was because there were so few people at the docks. It didn’t matter, all that mattered was that she was keeping her head down and no one paid her any mind.

And good to, for she was not supposed to be here.

They had told her the night before, that she was to marry Lord Tyrion, the Imp, and worst of all a Lannister. She had vomited when she had heard, vomited, and cried as Shae held back her hair. They wanted to marry her for her claim, as her mother and brother had perished just a week earlier.

They wouldn’t even let her mourn before they planned to make her one of them. Cloak her in red and gold and make her Lannister. She would rather die; she would rather go to the seven hells than marry a Lannister.

That had been her first though, what was the point in living now? Why live? Everyone she loved was gone. Father beheaded, mother and Robb betrayed, Arya missing, Bran and Rickon butchered. No one left, only Jon and no doubt he hated her for their childhood. All gone, even Lady, even the servants of Winterfell, all gone, she was all alone, so why?

So, why should she live? She had almost done it to, dangled out of her window and almost let go. She’d heard that when people jumped from high enough, they blacked out before they hit the bottom and that was what she hoped for, to go easy, peacefully. For what other choice did she have?

One other, one that would mean being brave.

_‘I am a Stark; I can be brave’_

_‘I have turned from porcelain, to ivory, to steel’_

_‘Wolves are supposed to be brave, aren’t they?’_

There was one other choice, and if the alternate was suicide then who cared? Who cared if they found her and dragged her back? She had to try, and so for the first time since she had become a prisoner Sansa had contemplated escape, she had thought of her own bravery, because she would require it all.

She had sat for an hour on the floor of her room, eyes cast down, hands twined in her lap. For an hour she considered and considered. She had caught her own gaze in the mirror and her gaze had turned hard. She could do this, she could.

And she would.

She had left it until the last minute, knowing any preparation would tip someone off. So, she had acted as normal, not slept a wink through the night and then had taken her bag, filled with as many valuables as she could stuff inside before she had slipped away. Out her window, through the Red Keep, down to the docks. It had been easy almost, the guards on duty this early either drunk of asleep as she slipped past, tread silent, eyes wide.

And now, at the smelly docks as the sun barely peeped over the horizon. She stood, among men heading for all corners of the world. Where would she go?

“Ships to anchor” The Captains called, and Sansa resisted the urge to make a break for the nearest ship. Instead she waited, like a good lady, waited as men booked passage, before stepping forward to book her own.

Where to go now?

Who did she have left? No one. Part of her thought to go to White Harbour, to try and find some Stark loyalists, but she had no idea who was left to fight for the Starks in the North, who would stand with her? Or would they sell her back to the Lannister’s? Who else did she have? Did she go to Dorne? Where she heard the people were kind, the weather was warm, and live life as a commoner? Or the Vale? Where her aunt was, her last blood.

Yes, her aunt, that was her best choice, her mother’s sister, her last flesh, and blood. Where else could she go? What other choice did she have? She had some money in her bag, some valuables but it wouldn’t be enough, and that aside she couldn’t risk capture, she couldn’t risk being dragged back to King’s Landing. She had few choices left, and so her aunts in the Vale it would be. Perhaps Littlefinger would be there as well, perhaps he would protect her.

_‘Men only want one thing from a pretty girl’_

She tried to shake Shae’s voice out of her head. How she wished her loyal handmaid were with her now, but no … she had to go it alone.

She could do it alone, she would do it alone, she had no one left now, she had to be strong.

“Erm” Her voice was gentle, too gentle for the common woman she was trying to portray, and she knew despite her plain dress it was too high quality, and she spoke and walked like a noble woman. She had to try and blend in, and so she kept her voice low.

“Are you going to the Vale?”

“Not here girl” He said with a shake of his head, “I’m going home, to Bravos, passage is 10 silver stags”

She considered for a moment but no, what would she do in Bravos? It would be safer perhaps, to leave Westeros, to avoid capture but what could she do there? She knew no one, had no idea of the language, culture, currency, nothing. No, she knew Westeros at least, she could communicate with people.

And so, she thanked the Captain and departed. The next two ships were the same, a shake of the head. One was going to the Summer Isles, another to Dorne. She paused at the last one, did she go to the sun? But again, she didn’t know anyone, it would be more familiar than Bravos, but no.

The fourth and final ship was the smallest, a crew of only 20 and fewer passengers on board. Whereas the others were filling up this one remained half empty. She stepped onboard and approached the Captain, he gave her a smile that seemed kind, but she kept her guard up, she had learnt on her lesson on being too trusting.

“To the Vale?” She asked, timidly, praying, hoping, but again it was a shake of the head.

“No lass” He said, a drop of pity in his expression, “She’s bound for Eastwatch by the Sea”

At that her gaze snapped up, of course! Jon! How could she forget Jon?! Sure, she had never been close with him, but he was family. She could go to Jon at Castle Black, he was strong, brave, he would protect her. Perhaps she’d even be able to stay with him, offer to work, or perhaps he could put her in one of the villages in the Gift, keep her close and safe. She would be safer there than anywhere else she could think of.

And so, she would go to Jon.

She nodded at the Captain then, “How much?” She asked, and he narrowed his eyes at her, she tried to remain calm, she was a terrible liar and yet now she would have to be better, she would have to be.

“Don’t take many girls to the Wall” He said, phrasing it as a question and Sansa knew she had no choice but to answer as he crossed his arms.

“My father lives in the North” She said, for it had been true and it was the first thing to come to mind, “My husband lives in Kings Landing, but I’m going to visit” A lie, a good cover story too, if anyone came asking why would they listen to a tale of a girl going to visit her father?

The Captain seemed to accept her story, “Floor or cabin?”

“Cabin” She said immediately, it didn’t matter how much it cost, she had to stay hidden. It might be foolish, but she knew, her hair was too distinct, her looks too pretty, her mannerisms too noble. She had to avoid detection, and so he nodded, she handed over 10 pieces of silver and a cabin it was.

The Captain looked like he wanted to say something but once she paid, she swept past him. She wanted no advice, she only wanted to get aboard, to leave this awful place, to be safe.

With Jon she was sure she would be safe.

Once aboard she turned to look over the edge back at King’s Landing, she knew she should hide in her cabin but she couldn’t tear herself away, couldn’t stop her gaze scanning the docks, expecting goldcloaks, Lannister soldiers, perhaps Tywin Lannister himself. She kept watching and watching, for what felt like hours.

But only fifteen minutes later and the Captain called to push away, the anchor was hoisted, and they were off, into Blackwater Bay, away from King’s Landing, away from her prison.

And she watched, feeling a little numb. She was sure relief would come later when she was with Jon. She was sure she would cry with relief when she slept, she would weep with reprieve, but for the moment she just watched.

She watched as Kings Landing became smaller and smaller, smaller and smaller, until she could no longer see it at all, and then once in the comfort of her own cabin, once her door was locked and she was alone, then, and only then did Sansa Stark weep with joy.

She was free, and soon she would be North, North with Jon, her family, her only remaining family.

_‘Oh, it would be sweet, to see him once again’_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so thoughts? 
> 
> pls let me know if you liked/disliked/hated/loved/mildly enjoyed? I like to hear it all!
> 
> speak soon


	2. Destination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> authorsnote: thanks sooo much to everyone who read/reviewed/fav'd/followed/enjoyed the first chapter! here is number 2. I do hope you enjoy it and pls let me know if you do, your words of encouragement are always my fav!
> 
> songrecs: clementine - halsey (if you haven't listened to her album 'manic' pls go do that now, it is so so good)

The sea is calm the further north they go, she isn't sure if that's because of the weather, the tides of the way the sailors handle the ship but it is comforting in a way, that calmer seas greet her as she returns closer to home, not that she really sees the waves on the journey.

She stays below deck, in her cabin, hidden away from the crew and the few men travelling so far north. She keeps her cloak about her, hair covered even as she sleeps, and she avoids leaving her little cabin, takes meals in her room, doesn't go above deck, even though she often wants to, wants to see the South becoming small in her view, wants to see the North as they reach it. She longs for some fresh air, longs to leave this cramped little space, but she doesn't, she needs to be careful, the air will be plenty fresh when she reaches Jon.

_Jon._

She didn't know what to expect when she arrived at the Wall. She was sure he'd be a ranger, following in the footsteps of her Uncle Benjen but beyond that she didn't know how he'd be, how different he might be. But she knew he'd protect her.

As children she regretted her actions towards him, she had been a snob, snooty and awful, but there had been some nice moments too, and she hoped Jon remembered those, the moments she had laughed with him, played with him, she hoped he remember those moments over the times she had stuck her nose up at him.

It was a credit to Jon's good character that Sansa knew he wouldn't turn her away, not when she showed up, humble pie swallowed long ago, desperate for help, but not just that. She probably had a better chance if she went to her aunt in the Vale, she didn't just want help, she wanted family, familiarity, someone she knew and cared for, no more strangers and people she didn't know. She wanted to be with Jon, they were the only Stark's left now, they should stick together.

The Stark pack, so scattered and lost, it felt wrong, to see the wolves torn apart, but with Jon, two would be together, and two was enough for a pack.

She would go to Jon, she wasn't sure if he'd keep her in a keep nearby, or a town, or perhaps he'd negotiate to keep her at the Wall. She did almost wrinkle her nose at that idea, of working and being around the men of the Watch, but then she thought back to Kings Landing, to the evil Lannister's, and she knew anything was better than them.

That was what she had to keep telling herself. As she hid in the little cabin below deck, as she contemplated that her future was unmapped, unplanned, as she realised that perhaps she wouldn't be treated like a noble Lady once she reached Jon … it was all better than the alternative, all better than being stuck with the Lannister's, the family who'd made her life hell.

As night fell, she lay in bed, still in her dress, not daring to strip down to her small clothes, door locked, curled among the threadbare blankets that were at least clean. She lay in bed, staring up at the wooden ceiling, the gentle swish of the waves actually soothing as she slowly shut her eyes.

In her dreams they came to her.

Robb, so full of life, so full of justice for their father, dead, wolves head on his body. Her mother, Lady Catelyn, brushing her hair 100 times, throat cut and dumped in the river. Bran, her cheeky brother, crippled and broken and burned, along with Rickon, little Rickon, life snatched away. Father, head cut, rotting on the walls. Arya, probably dead in a ditch somewhere. Theon, a traitor to them all. Septa, Jeyne, Maester Luwin, Jory … all dead, all gone.

Most nights after thinking of her family, dead and gone, leaving her alone, all alone, she'd wake, sometimes screaming, most times simply in tears. She'd wake after an hour or two, tears on her cheeks, hands shaking, unable to sleep anymore.

But not this night.

This night, her dreams turned, twisted. She thought of Joffrey, with his cruel sneer. Cersei, laughing at her, mocking. Jaime, with his equally taunting gaze to his twin. Tywin, cold and harsh. She thought of the court doves, laughing at her, of those that called her a traitor, of those that ridiculed her.

But then, again her dreams twisted, and another face came to mind, one she hadn't seen in years, and yet would be reunited with soon.

"Jon" She mumbled in her sleep, and she smiled then. Tears still trickled down her cheeks, and yet she smiled, she stopped shaking, as she thought of Jon, of how she was sure he'd shield her, keep her in his protection and safe. She knew once she reached Jon no one would be able to touch her. Not the Lannister's, not the Frey's, not the Bolton's, not the Iron Born, no one. Jon would look after her.

Though perhaps she needed to look after herself a little. As she thought of Jon, dreamed, she thought of the Wall, how hard it might be, and she knew she would need to adapt. Jon would keep her safe, protect her, but she would need to protect herself a little as well. But not with courtesies, in the North they would be useless, here she'd need to protect herself in different ways, perhaps with a little charm and honest work.

Honesty … for so long the politics in Kings Landing, the backstabbing, the second guessing, it had all lead her to be a liar, to hide her true feelings, to twist the truth. That would be no good to her now, she knew that, she'd need to find her northern routes once more, and again she smiled in her sleep; Jon would help her, he'd help her find home again.

Home.

There was no going back to Winterfell, not now, maybe not ever. Burnt by the Iron Born, now taken by the Bolton's. But home didn't just have to be a Keep, it could be more, it could be a feeling, and she knew if that were true then Jon would help her find that feeling.

"Jon" She mumbled again, still caught in sleep, and as hours passed, and she managed half a nights sleep before she awoke, she thought it was one of the best slumbers she'd had in a while, she hoped once she reached Jon she'd get a whole night.

"Jon" She whispered as the morning sun began to rise, as she huddled in the cabin, as she sat up in bed, _"Jon"_ His name was like a prayer on her lips, of safety, of protection, of comfort … of home.

* * *

By the time he reached home, his new home, Castle Black, he could barely sit in his saddle. His leg ached from the arrow, he was exhausted, dehydrated, hungry and ready to collapse. And collapse he did once he reached the gate, once he heard the shout to open, once he saw his brothers rush to his side. He tried to smile, to greet them, but instead he just fell, and darkness swallowed.

He only caught snatches of the next few days. Of the arrow being pulled from his leg, which had woken him up in a flurry of swear words before he fell back down. Of water being dripped into his chapped lips and dry throat that he drank like a dying man and then spluttered back up. Of Sam's voice, kind and reassuring, and Maester Aemon, hovering over him, blind but seeing all.

It was an odd few days, drifting in and out of seeing and hearing everything. It was on day five he awoke, the harsh cold chilling his bones as he managed to pull the blanket up to cover the cold, his eyes opening, roaming his small room at Castle Black, his leg painful yes but not nearly as much as he deserved. When he awoke, he felt better than he had the right to be, until Sam came to him.

It was a cold morning, as he dressed, back in black, the wildling furs long gone. He had a small limp, his hair was cut a little, and he spoke of Robb as Sam waited for him. Oh Robb, how he missed him, how he wished he could have been with him, how it killed him that he hadn't. And yet he was here, for the Watch, he had betrayed Ygritte for the Watch, for his brothers, and now he had to explain that.

He was pretty sure they wouldn't believe a word he said, but he had to try.

He limped his way to the main hall, shook his head as Sam offered to wait, and then there he was, stood in front of Maester Aemon, Othell Yawyck, Janos Slynt and Allistair Thorne. He knew he'd have a hard time convincing the latter two, but he would try, for what else could he do? This was more than his execution now, more than saving his own arse, there was more to it.

This was duty.

And so he ignored the jibes, resisted the urge to roll his eyes as they prattled on and instead tried to hammer the very simple point home; the wildlings were coming, they were large in number and it was very likely they would win. He didn't care that they mocked his time with Ygritte, that they questioned his allegiance, as much as it did annoy him a little he knew keeping his pride was less important than ensuring they got what he was trying to say.

He wasn't entirely sure they did, and he knew this wouldn't be the first time he raised this issue, but at the very least he kept his head. He nodded as he was let go, as Maester Aemon cut him loose,

_'None of us are free'_

That was the right of it, none of them were free, they were all bound to the Wall, all bound to their duty, to their vows and to each other, their brothers. He had known that when he had gone to the wildlings, he had known that when he had been with Ygritte, and he had known it when he left her

 _'Duty is the death of love'_ Seemed more apt at the moment than the other way around, his duty had certainly been the death of his love, and here he was again, back behind the Wall, back in black, a crow once more.

Was there anything he'd abandon his vows for? He had considered it for Robb, but he hadn't, he had stayed as a new brother. For Ygritte part of him had wanted to, to simply be with her and forget any cause, but the larger part had always stayed loyal to his vows. Was there anything? Anyone out there that he would turn his back on his brothers for? That he would give up this cause? As important as it was? Would there be any reason?

In that moment he didn't think so, but he didn't realise that soon, soon he would find out.

* * *

"Eastwatch by the Sea!" The Captain called, and Sansa knew it was time, time to emerge from the cabin she had spent far too long in. Her blood was fizzing in her veins, and she felt nerves in her belly that had been a constant companion in Kings Landing but had faded as she went North. She was North now, further than she had ever been, but it was still the North, still home. She was home in a way.

She could hear the ship dock, hear the bustle of the crew overhead and she quickly gathered her things, her small bag, stuffed with valuables that she hadn't taken off, not once. She slipped on her shoes, gathered her dress around her and her cloak, never pulling it down, always covering her distinctive hair. That was all she had.

Once she'd had any dress she needed, all manner of jewels, everything she could ever want, and now she was reduced to this. And yet she felt more comfortable with nothing and so close to home, than she had as a prisoner in Kings Landing with everything she had ever wanted. Kings Landing had been a prison, the bars of her cage may have been gilded, but it had been a cage all the same, here she would be free, and with Jon.

She hesitated just for a second as she reached the cabin door … she didn't know what to expect here. She had faith in Jon of course, but what about other people? Would they sell her back to the Lannister's? Would they even know who she was? She didn't know what to expect nor what to anticipate, and yet she knew she needed to be brave, she needed to be strong.

_'Wolves are supposed to be brave, aren't they?'_

She had to remember that, she is a wolf, and she would be brave. At that she felt stronger, and she knew she needed to be strong, there was no hesitation no, she couldn't afford it, and so she took a deep breath, took a second to compose herself and took her first gulp of fresh air in days.

It was wonderful, and so, so cold. She had never been this far North, and she had forgotten what a Northern wind felt like. It was nothing shy of magical. Snow whipped around her, and she felt like she was home, she could practically taste it in the icy air. She was a Stark, the cold she could handle, and as she stepped onto deck, she let out a little gasp, it was truly freezing, and yet it felt right.

For so long Sansa had longed to go South, to escape the dreary North. She had longed to attend tourney's, to meet handsome Knights and spend her days frolicking in the sun, it was only after getting what she wished did she realise how wrong she had been. _'Be careful what you wish for'_ Her mother had said once, and Sansa knew she was right. Only upon coming to the South did she realise how awful it was.

Yes, at first it had been just as she had hoped, Knights in painted armour, candles in hundreds of windows, beautiful dresses and parties with dancing and song. But as time went on, she could see the real South. Full of liars and cruelty, the air stunk and the people here had no honour, no kindness, no code to their actions. Soon she could see the Knights for what they were; showoffs who only wanted applause. She saw the candles in the windows and realised just how many people were living in squalor. The parties and dance and song were full of people scheming and plotting. It was all wrong, and not what she had imagined, not what she had wished for, but it had been to late by then.

But now she was North again, in the cold air, with the snow drifting down. Her father had always spoke with a reverence about the North, for she was untamed, the fiercest and largest of the kingdoms. Sansa had rolled her eyes at his pride for his lands, never seeing it, but now she knew, he had been right, he had been right to say their kingdom was to be proud of, for it was.

And something to be proud of stood behind her, and as she turned, she let out a strangled gasp, and her hands flew to her chest. She heard the Captain laugh, but she couldn't even respond.

It was the Wall.

It was magnificent, almost blue in colour, with dozens of hues and shades of ice. It was so tall. She remembered when she was younger, when she had been walking in the yard, clutching her mothers' hand and Ser Rodrick had smiled down at her and she was sure she'd never seen anything so tall in her life. It was kind of like that as she looked up at the Wall. It was wonderful, a sight truly to behold, and she couldn't help but stare for several minutes, before the Captain nudged her shoulder.

"Go on now girl, the lift is going, ask for a horse and then ride, be careful of the lads" He offered in warning and she managed a small smile at his words and a nod, she knew she should have kept quiet, kept her head down and moved on, but she couldn't help herself.

"Thank you" Her voice was gentle, and she offered him a smile, to which he nodded and smiled back, before turning back to his boat.

She couldn't stop looking at the Wall, and the Captain, the boat, it was all long forgotten as she approached the lift, as it took her and a few others up to the top of the Wall. Fortunately, no one asked her any questions, and she offered some silver and was given a mule in return. Another lift took her to the other side of the Wall, and from there it was time to ride.

Thankfully, she was alone in this, and she had managed to buy some food at Eastwatch, as well as a blanket and a sleeping roll. No one asked her any questions, she kept her head down and didn't make trouble, that seemed to be the way to go, and she knew she was lucky that the men here were too busy to pay her much mind, and soon she was on a poorly kept road, leading from the base of Eastwatch on the right side of the Wall, all the way to Castle Black. The man who'd given her the mule had told her it would take about three days.

Three days and she'd be with Jon, she'd be safe.

She felt safer here than she had before, for she was so far from the South now, so far from King's Landing. She was in the North, her home, and she was lost on the wind. No one knew her here, the Lannister's didn't know where she was, no one did, she was free, and she had just three days, and then she'd be with Jon, and no one could ever touch her again.

With one last look at Eastwatch she mounted her mule, strapped her provisions to the creature, took a sip of water before strapping that skin down too, and then she nudged her heels and they were off. The mule kept a good pace, and soon she was travelling next to the Wall, through the country. The snow was thick, and the road poorly kept but it was enough. She was thankful now more than ever that her father insisted she learn how to ride, even when she complained it cut short her harp lessons, what a stupid little girl she had been. She thanked her lucky stars her father hadn't relented, and she had learned, it certainly came in handy now.

She did feel a little out of her depth, she was thankful to travel alone but it was odd, and it felt strange, she had never travelled alone, and it had been so long since she had been anywhere alone. But she would do what she had to do, to reach Jon. She may be frightened; she may be scared but she could also be brave.

_'Can a man be brave if he is afraid?'_

_'That is the only time a man can be brave?'_

With her father's words ringing in her ears Sansa urged the mule on, soon she would be safe, soon she'd be protected, soon she would be with Jon.

* * *

Just over a week since he had returned and Jon felt to be back at home again.

Sure, some had glared at him now he was returned, some had tried to mock, but most had welcomed him, given him a pat on the back and embraced him. He had laughed with his brothers over dinner, trained with them in the yard, smiled with them at breakfast. He was home.

For the longest time he had struggled to think of the Wall as home, always equating home with Winterfell. In truth part of him still did, but now? Now the Wall felt like home too, with his brothers, with the cold, with his friends.

 _'Hush now, you're home'_ Sam had said when he returned, exhausted, freezing, arrow in his thigh and half dead, and now more than ever it felt like the truth, like he was home, like as much as he missed Winterfell, this was home now.

And now it was the home of another too.

Olly, just a boy, who had lost his parents too soon. Jon felt for him and kept a hand of solidarity on his shoulder as they spoke. He hated having to deny the boy justice, and usually he wouldn't have. His father had taught him the importance of seeing justice done, of seeing it done yourself, but now, there simply wasn't the time or the resources. The wildlings were coming, at least he saw that everyone was taking that fairly seriously, and so he could only offer Olly some support. Justice would have to wait.

A horn sounded as they spoke, and they all hurried to the gate. "Rangers returning" Pyp cried out and they all hurried to greet them. Jon felt relief, a deep relief as Ed and Grenn stumbled through, cold and exhausted as he had been, and yet a little more beat up. His relief soon vanished as he realised the implication of the situation, the wildlings were coming, and soon they'd realise what an easy victory they'd have. He could see Allistair Thorne realised it too, and then he knew they were truly fucked.

"Fuck" He mumbled to himself, as he looked over at his brothers, "Even if we each kill a hundred wildlings it won't be enough" He said with a shake of his head, and Pyp's words confirmed it. They were fucked, they could only hold the wildlings off, and they could only do that if Mance Rayder thought their numbers were far better than they were. They had to ride back out past the gate, further North, and kill the mutineers before they could spill the secrets of the Watch to the wildlings.

That was what they must do, and yet as she was about to say so another horn sounded, this time at the front gate, and then a hurried messenger, who looked completely bewildered came down.

"Theres someone at the front gate" He said, looking as though he had no idea what to say.

"Might want to be a bit more specific" Thorne said cuttingly, and the messenger nodded.

"A girl" Jon raised an eyebrow at that, what would a girl be doing asking for admittance to Castle Black? Was it a Mole's Town whore perhaps? Or someone else who'd escaped the Thenns?

"A girl?" Thorne repeated back, as bewildered as the messenger, they all looked like it.

"Aye" The messenger said, and then he turned to look at Jon, "And she's asking for you"

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo thoughts?
> 
> I know I'm awful! but this is all vital set up, and next chapter it's reunionnnnnnn time. omg I'm so hype, part of me wishes I didn't know what happens next, but alas.
> 
> pls let me know what you thought, did you love/like? I'd also be curious to know what direction you think this story is going to go!
> 
> speak soon


	3. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> authorsnote: ty to everyone who's been reading, subscribing, and reviewing, I appreciate it! I do hope you're enjoying this story, I have most of it mapped out now and I realised it is going to be a long one! so let's go full throttle ahead!
> 
> I do hope you enjoy, let me know if you do.
> 
> songrecs: the archer - taylor swift

She was tired.

Tired in a way she'd never been tired. Yes, she'd lost countless nights of sleep in King's Landing, had stayed awake night after night, eyes on the canopy, unable to sleep, nightmares waiting to drag her down. She'd smothered down yawns at breakfast, had dark baggy circles under her eyes, and had often felt exhausted, but nothing like this.

As she finally, _finally_ reaches the gates of Castle Black she feels like she might drop from her horse. Three days of riding, with snatched hours of rest on the way, shivering in her bed roll with a blanket, and she feels like if she has to take another step she'll fall over and not get back up.

But she feels triumphant as she approaches the gates, as she sees the famous Castle Black before her. She made it! Part of her had doubted herself. As she shivered in the dark beneath the shadow of the Wall, as she feared she'd freeze in her sleep but failed to build a fire, as she limited herself to meagre amounts of food to conserve her few provisions, she wasn't sure she'd make it.

But she's here, she made it and she feels _strong_. Part of her had thought she'd be stuck in King's Landing forever, but she made it out, no one rescued her, no one saved her, she did it herself, and she made it, alone.

' _I have gone from porcelain, to ivory, to steel'_

She feels proud of herself for the first time in a long while, she feels a warmth in her chest of pride, of happiness, something that had become foreign to her, and as the gates open with a groan she is smiling.

Her smile soon slips from her features though, as she is confronted with the truth of her sanctuary.

She is still convinced this was the right move, to come North, _home_ , to flee to Jon, and yet as she trots her tired mule through the gates and see's the stares of the men, all in black, like a flock of crows, her smile is long gone, and her eyes desperately search for Jon.

 _Jon_.

When she can't see him, she worries he's not here, that he's out ranging or worse perhaps. She gulps down the nerves in her stomach, her eyes searching, desperately, for the men here are thieves, rapers, all manner of awful, she needs Jon.

"Sansa?"

She hears her voice, and she immediately turns her head, and sees him.

 _Jon_.

No wonder she couldn't find him, he looks so different and yet she should have noticed him, he looks like a true Stark. Grey eyes, dark curly hair, a rough beard, the Northern look about him. He has several scratches on his face, and that brooding look hasn't disappeared, though he looks shocked now, but it is him, it is _Jon_.

"Jon?" She responds, and in her eagerness, she almost falls from her horse, to throw herself into his arms. She almost falls but steadies herself, and then she is swept up in his embrace.

He grips her tightly, so tightly, and it takes everything in her not to sob in front of this flock of crows. His arms around her are strong, sure, and she clutches him with every ounce of strength she has. She presses her nose to the skin of his neck, and he cradles the back of her head, holds her, as she grasps at him.

She is here, Jon is here, she is _safe_. She almost breaks down crying just at that realisation.

After months of being held hostage, of being taunted, mocked, beaten, ridiculed, hurt and abused, after believing King's Landing would become her graveyard, after being so sure she was stuck forever, to die in the awful place they'd taken her father from her, she is free, she is free and she is with Jon, she is safe.

He will keep her safe, of that she has no doubt, and yet as someone clears their throat behind them, she realises…

Jon will keep her safe, she trusts him, but his brothers? The crows? Can he keep her safe from them?

"Who's this then Snow?" A bitter looking man spits out, he looks angry, his lips thinned into a frown. He takes a step forward and she can see he is in charge here, or at least fancies himself in charge, and she can also see that he does not like her brother, that is clear in his nasty glare and the tension in him as he crosses his arms.

She reads him well, and she knows that's from her time in King's Landing. Perhaps one good thing came from her time in that awful City, in that she has found she can read people better now. She can train her sapphire blue eyes on them and understand them in a way. She may not like the lies and politics that King's Landing had tried to install in her, but she can appreciate this skill.

"One of your wildling whores?" The nasty looking man spits out and Sansa gasps. She realises she'll need to get used to coarse language and men like this but even in King's Landing she was treated like a Lady, here she'll have no such courtesy.

Still she'd rather spend the rest of her days being treated like a commoner in the North, than ever return to Kings Landing.

She can see Jon is outraged on her behalf and goes to take a step forward, only she places a hand on his arm, and he looks back at her and she shakes her head. He nods at her then, but levels a glare at the bitter man, and spits out his words at him, "No, this is the Lady Sansa Stark" Just those words have the men reeling in shock.

Sansa wasn't sure they should have told these men who she is, though she knows they are his brothers, she would have been more careful, Jon does not have her caution, though she is glad of that, she hopes he hasn't suffered as much as she has.

"Aye?" The man asks, and Jon nods, still glaring, having stepped in front of her now, though she is only an inch shy of his height, he looks to shield her and that warms her, coming to Jon she had never doubted he'd protect her, here she is proven right, she hadn't doubted it, Jon will keep her safe. "And what is she doing here?"

"I…" She starts to speak but Jon shakes his head and she falls quiet, she trusts him, and she trusts he knows what to say to his brother's better than she does.

"She's fled a hostage situation" Sansa winces at Jon's honesty but she trusts him, if he feels the truth is the best thing then she'll follow along. Part of her also recognises that the truth very well _may_ be the correct move, but coming from Kings Landing? It never was. She hasn't seen people trade truths in a very long time.

"Right" The sour man speaks, though it doesn't sound like he thinks it's ' _right'_. In fact he makes it look like it all seems wrong. "But you didn't answer my question Snow" The way he spits out her brother's name makes her frown, "What is she doing _here_?"

"I'm her only kin" Jon says furiously and her heart swells at his words, his tone, she knew he'd protect her, she knew that from the second she decided to go to him, but as she looks at his brothers, she's not sure she'll be safe here.

"Okay" The bitter man speaks, "But you're also a brother of the Nights Watch" Sansa feels herself tremble a little as she realises where this is going, "And family, girls, aren't welcome here" He trains his glare on her then, and years of Joffrey keeps her gaze up, _just_.

Part of her wants to instinctively duck her head in fear, but years of being beaten down has installed some strength in her spine, and she refuses to budge her gaze, even though she trembles a little.

"I know but..." Jon begins, but she can see before he brings his argument, it is lost.

"No buts" The man spits, glaring furiously at her brother, what quarrel had they held to look at one another with venom? Sansa realises then as she looks across at the man, it's not even quarrel, he is jealous, resentful, cruel.

She has grown good at reading people thanks to Kings Landing, all it takes is a look of her well-trained eye and she can see what others miss. With Jon he is all brooding passion, with this bitter man he is also resentment and ego.

She won't be allowed to stay here.

"You'll show the girl out the way she came" Sansa flinches then, she had thought … _hoped_ this would be a place of safety, and she had been right in a sense, it is not Jon's fault she is not welcome, he does want to keep her safe as she had thought, but his brothers have no such honour.

It is odd, to think of these men dressed in black as Jon's brothers, what of Robb? Bran? Rickon? Well Jon left them behind to join the Watch, not that she blames him, but it is strange all the same.

"It's okay Jon" She whispers, placing a hand on his arm. It is most certainly not okay of course, but she doesn't want Jon to get in trouble, not for her. "It's okay"

Her murmur of reassurance does nothing, as she watches Jon turn back to his brothers. She feels warmed that he won't go down without a fight, but she knows it is pointless, she can see that here.

But before he can open his mouth, she can see another man enter the courtyard, the oldest man she might have ever seen, and when he speaks, they all listen.

"Now, now Ser Allister" Sansa wrinkles her nose as the bitter man's face is given a name, she recognises the name, and understands his bitterness, he is only at the Wall because he fought for the losing side, the side her father backed, she can see now where his anger at Jon comes from, even if it is misplaced.

"We won't throw the girl out in the cold" Her heart leaps then and Jon turns to look at her, hope fresh on his face, perhaps she is saved … well, until the old man speaks his next words, and she berates herself for hoping.

Hope had been long dead to her in Kings Landing, she has to remember that even at the far-flung corners of the world, hope is in short supply.

"For one night" She can see the disappointment on Jon's face, but she takes his hand, threads her fingers through his, and squeezes his hand. He seems reassured by that, but still speaks up.

"But Maester Aemon" Another name she recognises, but one far more worthy of acknowledgment, Aemon, once in line to the Throne, a Targaryen.

"No buts Jon Snow" He speaks, Sansa can hear the wisdom in his voice, she just wishes said wisdom would allow her to stay, "Yes we may offer respite to an individual for one night, we are not cruel" Even though the old Maester can't see, Sansa can see his gaze fix on the bitter Ser Allister, "But we cannot allow her to stay beyond that"

"I…" Jon begins again, but Sansa squeezes his hand, she doesn't want him to get in trouble here, and she can see, there is no hope. She will not be allowed to stay.

Perhaps she should have gone to the Eyrie, or Dorne, or ran to the far-flung corners of the world, but no… it was worth it, to see him again.

' _Oh how it would be sweet, to see him again'_

"It's okay" She murmurs again, "It's okay" Again that seems to soothe him, she feels warm that her words help him, and he nods at her. In Kings Landing she was no help to anyone, it is nice to know she can help Jon, even if she won't be able to for long.

Of course, it is not okay, but what else can she say? The older man, Maester Aemon, he has spoken, and though the cruel man looks as though he wants to throw her and Jon off the Wall, even he listens to the Maester.

The decision is made.

Perhaps she can go to Mole Town, or perhaps she can hide somewhere in the North? She's not sure, but for the moment she doesn't want to think of what comes next. The future is uncertain, and she knows she needs to figure that out, determine what comes next, but not now, not for the moment.

Instead she looks at Jon, she is allowed to stay for one night, and she intends to spend every second with Jon before they are parted.

The Stark pack is meant to be together, like wolves that run collectively, but they are being torn apart again, the pack ripped apart. She'd cry and scream at the injustice if she weren't so used to it by now.

"Come on Jon" She squeezes his arm with her hand, "Can we rest in your room?" He nods, and takes her hand in his, his hand is cold, but hers is warm, and turns his back on his brothers.

A selfish part of her wishes he could do that permanently, to stay with her, but she knows Jon, knows he holds their father's honour and would never do such a thing. He would never abandon his brothers or the cause he has pledged his life too, not even for her.

It is odd, that she feels sad to see such honour. She had missed the Northern honour in Kings Landing, but now for a moment she resents it. Still, she won't resent Jon, not when he'd tried, not when he was all she had left.

As he leads her to his room, she determines she'll bask in this day, and then … then, she'll figure out what comes next.

* * *

Sansa is sleeping soundly when he figures out what to do.

They had spent hours together before night had fallen and Sansa's eyes had begun to droop. First, they'd swapped stories, and it was harder to determine who had the sadder tale. Jon was determined it was Sansa, for she had endured much in King's Landing, but when he told his tale, when he got to the part about Ygritte Sansa had tears swimming in her eyes and had hugged him for so long he'd near choked up himself.

After that they'd talked about Winterfell, about childhood, a million stupid little things that they had taken for granted.

' _Old Nan's pies' 'Rickon throwing a hunk of bread and hitting Theon square in the eye' 'Robb kissing Alys Karstark and being in a dreamlike state for a week', 'Jon jumping out at them in the crypts covered in flour, Arya punching him whilst Sansa ran away'._ A million things that they'd noticed in passing but now cherished.

After that they'd eaten and Sansa had tried to apologise for her behaviour towards him, he hadn't let her at first but begrudgingly accepted the apology he didn't feel she needed to give. But then a weight had lifted in her eyes when he'd accepted, and he'd pulled her closer.

Now, Sansa slept soundly, though a little fitfully, tossing and turning a little, and of course he knew why.

She was terrified of what was to come tomorrow when she had to leave … _alone_.

But then, Jon couldn't, no _wouldn't_ let her leave alone.

He knows he can't stay here, not if it means throwing Sansa out into the cold. Yes, he has made vows, and yes, he risks execution if he leaves, but he knows he has to stand by his family.

As Sansa sleeps and he contemplates abandoning his brothers, he thinks of his father.

Eddard Stark, a man of honour until the end, and yet his honour led to his death. Jon had always been taught to put honour before anything else, to regard it with such importance everything else paled in comparison, and yet as he looks at Sansa, sleeping on his bed, with a crinkle of worry between her eyebrows, he knows there is something more important.

Family.

Hell, even the Tully's placed family before honour, and Jon knows he has to as well, he knows he must, this time, and every time now, family must come first.

So, he'll leave the Wall, he'll risk death, he'll besmirch his honour, as he cannot leave Sansa, he won't.

What would she do? He had debated placing her in Mole's Town, but he could visit maybe once a month, and then she'd be pressured, and in danger if any of the Northern Lords make the trip to visit the Wall. He wondered about placing her somewhere in the North, but who can be trusted?

They can't trust anyone, except for each other, hence he can't leave her.

He doesn't even want to leave here, for he made a vow, and he knows what is coming. The Wildlings march on the Wall, he should be here to stop them, he should be here to fight. The fight is coming, it will be bloody and brutal, and he should be here for it.

But he can't.

Then he thinks of Commander Mormont, of the men at Craster's Keep, of how the Wildlings will learn of the abysmal state of the Watch and then throw everything at them. He had already started to form a plan as Gren and Ed spoke, to lead a mission, to avenge their Commander, to kill the mutineers, buy the Watch some time.

But how can he do that now if it means abandoning his kin?

Really, he has a choice here, abandon the Watch or abandon Sansa.

He knows which one he'll choose.

His brothers had stopped him marching South to go to Robb and he is thankful, for there was much he needed to learn here, much he needed to experience, and by leaving he knows he'll miss out on more, but Robb died in the South, and Jon couldn't help but always think if he had been there then perhaps it could have been different.

And so, he cannot think that again with Sansa. He knows if he abandons her, and she turns up hurt or dead that he'll never forgive himself, their father would never forgive him, wherever he may be now. He may have to sacrifice his own personal honour, but he will do so to protect Sansa.

He thinks and hopes that their father would be proud of that, that even though he may have to sacrifice his honour he is doing it for an honourable cause, for family, for kin, for _Sansa_.

But the real question is, where do they go?

The South is obviously out of the question, but then he thinks, so is the North. They don't know who they can trust, no Northern house will accept him as Eddard Stark's son, for he is just a bastard, and Sansa? Yes, she is trueborn, the heir to Winterfell, and so he knows presenting her to any house in the North would likely see her married off.

So, no the North was also out of the question, so where could they go?

He honestly has no idea.

"Worrying?" He hears Sansa's voice then, he isn't sure how she woke, but he knows as she sits up, dark circles under her eyes it is likely from her time in Kings Landing.

He can't imagine what she had gone through, even after explaining it to him, and he hates that he couldn't help her, rescue her. They may not have been close as children, hell, they didn't even treat one another like siblings, but she is _kin_ , he should have been there to protect her.

He may not have been, but he will protect her now, he will, even if it means fleeing to the other side of the world.

* * *

Sansa can see it written across his face, the worry lines, the brooding, it reminds her so much of Jon in Winterfell she almost cries at the familiar sight. Winterfell is long gone, burnt, and taken over by the Bolton's, but seeing Jon as he was then … it oddly reminds her of home.

It isn't hard to guess what he is brooding over.

He is stuck here, bound to a vow made to his brother's here, and he is Eddard Stark's son, he won't abandon them. But she cannot stay here, not for the first time over the past year does she curse her gender. She'd heard Cersei lament on it a few times, _'if only I were born a man',_ and had never really sympathised with that view, not until Joffrey had abused her and she wished to be stronger, and now she is being thrown out in the cold. If she were Jon's brother rather than sister she could stay, but no, she cannot.

She is trying to stay strong; she wants to crumple and cry, she wants to sob and beg Jon to run with her, but she can't. She can't do that to him when she knows he has to stay here, and so she'll be strong, as she had to be in King's Landing, she has enough practice now, it is not so hard to fake. She can be strong here, and maybe be weak when she leaves … just for a moment before she's forced to be strong again.

"I can't abandon you" He breaks into her thoughts and just those words have her bottom lip trembling before she bites the inside of her cheek hard to stop any tears.

"It's not your fault" Part of her resents that he won't run for her, but only a small part, she knows he can't and so she isn't angry that he can't leave for her, she understands, even though she doesn't like it. It's not Jon's fault.

"I can't" He says again, and hangs his head then, she sits up in the bed, takes a seat next to him and rests her head on his shoulder, he then rests his on top of hers. They are comfortable then, for several minutes, no words needed, just finding comfort in one another.

She has to be strong, but she hasn't had a friendly person nearby, someone to bring her comfort in so, _so_ long, and the idea of that being ripped away … she can't help the tear that trickles down her cheek.

Before she can wipe it away Jon does, his thumb swipes it away, and he lingers just for a second, she leans into it, to the comfort, which is so foreign to her now, and more tears fall. She wants to be strong, but she has had to be for _so_ long, it is so hard, especially here, with Jon, one of the last few people in the worlds she trusts, it is hard to stay stoic, it is hard to stay strong when it is all she has known for too long.

"I can't" He repeats, and she drops her gaze, for the tears won't stop, not when she knows what's to come, that she'll be alone … _again_.

"I won't" It sounds like a promise, but one she knows he can't keep; she doesn't want him to make it when he can't keep it.

"Jon…" She starts but he shakes his head and pulls her into a hug, she grips onto him, she doesn't want to let go, not now, not _ever_. She grips at him like a drowning woman on a raft, like a falling man on a mountain. She doesn't want to let go.

"I need to go to Craster's" He starts, and she has no idea what that is, but she waits, listens, "I have to give the Watch a chance, I have to if I won't be here for the fight, I have to give them a chance" He nods then, and she feels a stutter of hope in her heart when she sees how sure he looks. She doesn't want to hope, not when it could be snatched away.

"Then we'll run" He nods again, and her hands tighten on where she clutches at his tunic, that hope stuttering again, "We'll run, and hide, and I'll take care of you, I promise"

"Jon… I" She begins, but what can she say? She knows she should try and dissuade him, but she doesn't want to, she can't bring herself to say the words that would make him change his mind.

"No" He cuts her off before she can say anything else, "I won't abandon you, not now, not ever" He places his chin atop her head then, as he holds her, as she holds him, a firm embrace, "We'll run"

The tears start again, but this time they of relief, that the hope doesn't need to be extinguished, that she won't be alone. The tears fall, and they don't stop, not as she and Jon clutch at one another, as they hold on, long into morning.

They have much to discuss, to figure out, but for now they just hold onto one another, not moving, not letting go, not until morning comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo thoughts?
> 
> ahhh! reunions and progression! we are off! I do hope you guys are enjoying and I'd love to know your thoughts, I've already planned waaaay ahead, I'm so excited for this story to unfold.
> 
> subscribe for updates, and feel free to check out my other asoiaf stories!
> 
> speak soon


	4. Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeeey. don't judge the late update, it is possible I may be juggling too many fics ... nah, surely thats not the reason!
> 
> anywho, please enjoy, slightly shorter chapter, but the next one is a biggie! lemme know if you liked!
> 
> songrecs: palladium - kacy hill

Morning comes and plans need to be made.

The night before they had held one another, forgotten about the decisions to come, the pain that was brewing and the plans that would need to be made. They had for just a few short hours tried to ignore the responsibilities they had (well Jon had), the oaths and promises they may be breaking, the pain they could be causing.

For a few short hours they managed to catch some precious sleep and forget about what dawn would bring. They could pretend they were back in Winterfell even, on the occasions as children when she, Jon, Robb and Arya had hidden beneath the sheets and played games into the morning, when she had snuggled Robb and cried after Dominic Bolton rejected her, when Jon had held her hand when she'd skinned her knee.

They could pretend for just a little while that everything was okay, that everything _would_ be okay, _could_ be okay.

But as always, dawn came, and the time for decision making had come.

Jon is awake before she is, dressed and ready, all in black _, 'a crow'_ as some call the Nights Watch, she just sees _Jon_ , her brother, her saviour it would seem. Well perhaps she is more her own saviour now but has Jon by her side. She likes that better, Jon will help save her, but she must also continue to save herself.

She knows that she knows she must be strong, for herself, and for Jon.

For she can see this decision weighs on him, he is Eddard Starks son after all, if not in name then in blood. She remembers her mother's fretting and upset, that Jon looked more like the babe of Eddard Stark than any of his trueborn sons did, and he truly is her Fathers son, he holds his honour close, and is loathe to break an oath.

She feels warm that he intends to do so for her, to put her first … she can't remember the last time someone did that, put her first. It feels precious, like a _treasure_ , to be treated as a priority, as Jon is treating her, as she vows to treat him.

She feels bad that Jon must break his oath, leave his brothers, but she feels better that he is doing so to stay with her, she remembers her Fathers words, and knows he makes the right decision.

' _The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives'_

They must protect one another, look after one another. For she will, he will protect her, she will protect him. That she promises herself.

The decision weighs on him and she stands from his bed and places a hand on his shoulder, he smiles for second, yet it doesn't touch his eyes, and then he is all business, and as he transforms in a way, to be pragmatic and logical she knows she must as well. At least Kings Landing taught her that, that sometimes emotions are _utterly_ useless.

This is one of those times.

She remembers Cersei for a minute then, rolling her eyes when she cried, laughing as she whimpered. _'Tears aren't your only weapon'_ She is loathe to follow anything that woman said, but she knows life's lessons come in all forms, and this instance Cersei is right – sometimes you have to ignore the tears, the emotion, and focus on what is at hand.

"I can't leave you here" All business as he goes to the tiny desk in the corner, pulls out a map and two hardened rolls of bread, clearly stashed away, he passes her one and she bites into it hungrily, she can see him smile a little at that and she lets out a small giggle.

Oh, how different things are. If someone had told her two years ago she'd be stood at Castle Black, tearing into hard bread like a squirrel as Jon plotted to abandon his brotherhood she'd have called them mad, six months ago she would have cried for it to be true.

"You'll have to come to Crasters, if they catch you here alone they'll throw you out" He nods, "Or worse" She can see his gaze darken at that and Sansa knows then and there, she won't have to worry about anything like _that_ with Jon by her side. Just the mention of it and he looks ready to murder someone.

"Crasters?" She asks as she takes another bite of her bread and Jon tears into his. She knows Jon mentioned Crasters the night before but didn't explain the place.

As he does now, she wishes he hadn't.

"I know" He nods, seeing the disgust and horror on her face as he finishes explaining just what Crasters is, "But we have to go, kill the brothers who've mutinied" He takes another bite and turns back to the map, "I have to give them the best chance here, and that means stopping the mutineers before Mance Rayder reaches them"

"And I'll come with you" She asks, and he nods again.

"Aye, it'll be safer, from there we'll return to Castle Black and then make our run for it" He pauses then and she can see him asking himself the same question she has been asking herself since Jon agreed to flee with her.

_Where will they go?_

Jon doesn't speak, and Sansa knows she must, she doesn't want Jon to be the only plan maker, she needs to be useful here, she _must_ be useful. Kings Landing may have near killed her but it did teach her more than just Cersei's ramblings, it taught her the simple lesson; _don't sit and wait for someone to decide for you, you make the plan_. She thinks Tyrion said that to her, or perhaps she overheard Tywin saying it, but then the Father and son were much more alike than either would admit. Either way, there is wisdom in that lesson, and she applies it now.

"Obviously, the South is out of the question" He nods, as does she, she doesn't plan to step in the Southern half of Westeros _ever_ again. "The North too really, we have no idea who we can trust, they are just as likely to execute you and hand me to the Bolton's as they are to give us aid" Another nod, "So where does that leave us?"

Jon takes another bite, and then turns back to his map, "All that leaves is here which is a no, and then Beyond the Wall" He shakes his head, "Even if the wildlings didn't skin us as soon as they see us, there are other horrors lurking past the snow" He says and this time she doesn't ask him to explain, not now, she doesn't need more nightmares as they try to figure out what to do.

She has enough nightmares to last her a lifetime now, she doesn't need any more for the moment.

"That's it then" She hesitates then, as she looks at the map, at Skagos, but that is not where she plans, no, instead her eyes skirt to the side, off the map… to the…

"East" She looks at Jon then, "What if we go East?"

" _East_?" Jon repeats, "Essos?"

"Yes" She nods, and she feels a flutter of excitement in her stomach, a flutter she'd near forgotten she could feel, "No Lannister's, no Bolton's, no Night's Watch!" She smiles then, grabs at Jon's hands. "It's safe"

"Sansa" He is gentle then, not wanting to stop her smiling clearly, "We don't know anything about Essos, we don't have money" She shakes her head then and reaches into the pocket of her dress.

"I have jewels, we can sell them, Jon this could be the safest place for us, find a little house, hide away and then … I guess then we figure out what comes next" She has convinced herself now, Jon seems to remain unconvinced, though slightly less sceptical as he speaks.

"I have some money tucked away, I don't spend anything here" He nods then, and she feels that flutter of excitement then, though she realises it is not excitement, it is hope.

 _Hope_.

It is something she has not felt in a long, _long_ time. She can see it is the same for Jon.

The two had been separated, one in the South, one in the North, one in the warm, one in the cold, and yet both out of hope, out of faith. Perhaps now it can return.

"Essos wouldn't be permanent" Jon says, "We'd have to think of something permanent"

Sansa knows she has a glint in her eye then, as it all comes together, as it all makes sense, as it all falls into place. She smiles, though without excitement now, instead she seems to even glow a little, from within, as she realises what they can do, what they will do, what they _must_ do.

"Not permanent" She shakes her head, "Just temporary, and then, then we'll come home"

"Home?" Jon asks, and she can see a flicker of hope in him too, even beneath the layers of cynicism and doubt, the hope is there, and that is all they need, "We don't have a home anymore Sansa" He seems sad then and she clutches his hands a little tighter, and shakes her head.

"We do" She nods then, and again she feels like she is glowing, as if she's had an epiphany, realised now that she and Jon are together, two members of the wolf pack reunited, she has realised what they can do, what they must do.

' _The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives'_

' _The winters are hard, but the Starks will endure, we always have'_

' _In winter we must protect ourselves'_

' _There must always be a Stark in Winterfell'_

Hope.

"We'll just have to take it back"

* * *

A few hours later and he had ' _walked'_ Sansa out of Castle Black (he had technically, but also snuck her back through the gate as the brothers walked away), he had assembled with his brothers in the main hall, and Ser Allistair had reluctantly given him charge to take down the mutineers.

It has all gone to plan, the plan to try and help his brothers, help them before he must leave them. He feels awful, watching them cheer for him, clap his back, and promise to fight with him, it feels terrible when he knows that soon he must leave them.

The decision is hard, but he has made it. He will protect his kin, _Sansa_ , he will protect his family. He isn't sure if his Father is rolling in his grave for abandoning his vow or cheering him on as he plans to protect his family.

But he knows deep down, even as he joins his brothers at the gate (Sansa head down, hood up next to him, dressed in clothes of the Watch), he has made the right decision. His brothers will survive, but he won't abandon Sansa. He isn't sure if she will survive on her own.

It is not that he doesn't believe in her, but the world is cruel, particularly to women, and Sansa is a key political piece, he cannot imagine what horrors she would face if captured, and so he won't let that happen, not now, not ever. He will protect her; he will protect his kin.

Even if it means abandoning his brothers.

He checks his weapons at his belt, Longclaw sits with pride and he feels a twinge of guilt at that. He will leave it behind he promises himself, as he plans to flee the Wall, he won't run with the Valyrian steel sword, he will leave it behind. He doesn't want to, but he knows he must, he would never dishonour Jorah Mormont that way.

The gate creaks open then, he glances around at the small band of brothers, and he leans over to Sansa passes her a dagger, she looks horrified but he gives her a look and she nods, takes it, straps it to the belt he had loaned her, even though her hand shakes a little, she manages it.

He almost laughs though, to see her trussed up in his slightly smaller clothes he had come to the Wall in. All in black, her skin stands even paler, and she is thankful he passes her off as one of the new recruits as she joined them, and she keeps her head down and hair scraped back.

"Will I need this?" She whispers and he shrugs though offers her a kind smile.

"Hopefully not" He glances forward then as the gate creaks again, "You'll stay back during the fighting, but better safe than sorry, you know how to use it?" She shakes her head, and he can see the fear flash in her eye and he guides his horse a little closer to her.

"Sansa" He keeps his tone gentle then and offers her a small smile, "I won't let anyone hurt you, but you should know" He pauses then, "Stick them with the pointy end" And flashes her a smile.

She smiles too, and nods her head, "You too" She says, and he does laugh a little then, even as she looks a little affronted.

"Going to protect me?" He teases a little and she glares at him, "Use that dagger to stop one of the mutineers charging me? Are you going to watch my back? Take down some of the soldiers"

"I will" She says fiercely and she reminds him a little of Arya then, he feels a pang, how he misses his youngest sister, he wishes she were here, the three of them, he wishes there were more of the Stark pack now, he misses them greatly. He feels some pride as Sansa speaks, she just admitted she doesn't know how to use a dagger and yet she promises to watch his back, he doesn't laugh now but smiles, a smile full of pride.

"Aye" He nods then, "We'll protect each other" He vows, and she smiles too. The gate clicks into place and he nods, takes a breath, he isn't nervous for this fight, at least not for himself. He feels a rush of adrenaline, but he knows he must protect himself and Sansa too, he won't let her get hurt.

Protect one another … it feels _odd_. Ever since he left home, he has protected himself, and his brothers, and they have protected him, as the Nights Watch should, a brotherhood he will be truly sad to be leaving. But now he can add Sansa to that, a Stark to protect him, as he will protect her.

It is strange, but nice.

For the first time in a long time he feels like a _Stark_.

_'You may not have my name, but you have my blood'_

"Let's ride" He calls, and the brothers nod, follow, as does Sansa, a look of fear in her eyes, though determination is equally there as well, and he feels proud then, proud of Sansa.

Protect one another. As the outer gate opens and the stretch of the Haunted Forest becomes clear ahead, he nods, aye, they'll protect one another, _now, and always_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo thoughts?
> 
> god I love writing Jon, damn straight he'll protect Sansa, but he'll also believe in her!
> 
> I do hope you guys enjoyed, lemme know if you did!  
> subscribe for updates
> 
> speak soon


	5. Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooooo, jonsa time.
> 
> *cough cough* anywho, do enjoy, I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and hopefully you enjoyed reading it! do let me know.
> 
> songrecs: betty - taylor swift (basically all of my song recs for the next 4-5 months will be from either folklore or evermore srry).

She had expected it to be cold, but not _this_ cold.

On her journey to Castle Black she had shivered, she had trembled, she had shaken with how cold it was. She had thought of Winterfell, how as cold as it was it had never been _this_ cold. The hot springs beneath the Castle had kept it warmer, and even in the North there had been sun (sometimes), it hadn't been as frigid as here, nowhere had been as bad as here.

And yet somehow it had gotten worse.

She has trembled in a blanket as she had ridden next to Jon, but now, as they approached the Haunted Forest (and she had gulped when they had entered it, remembering Old Nans stories about the Others, wights, giants and ice spiders), she didn't tremble, but only because she felt she might have frozen to her horse.

Thankfully, the Nights Watch furs as shabby as they were, were warm, but it was still a cold she had never known. Jon had laughed as he looked across at her, just before they'd come to the trees, and she'd been sure she heard whistling through them.

"You'll adjust quickly" He promised, both smiling in a kind mockery but with a hint of concern, she'd nodded and pulled her cloak closer; she didn't want to be weak, or a burden, it was just cold, she'd adjust, as Jon had said.

' _I am a Stark of Winterfell; I can be brave'_

No. She _would_ be brave.

She forgot about the cold some as they entered the Haunted Forest.

Haunted was an apt word. It was dark under the cover of the trees, with their gnarled branches and twisted trunks. She could see an abandoned spot or two, wildlings? She hadn't expected them this close to the Wall. She was suddenly thankful for the dagger Jon had given her, even if she had no idea how to use it.

"How far is Crasters?" She asked, keeping her voice down. The brothers hadn't asked who she was when Jon had gruffly said she was a new recruit, but she had noticed one of them – Locke was it? Watching her a touch closer, it made her uneasy, and she stuck close to Jon.

"About 55 miles" Jon said with a nod as he trotted forward, "It will take us about a day and a half, 2 if we stop"

"Will we stop?" She asked, again looking nervously over at Locke. She had noticed him watching her once she had joined the group, but not leering, not eyeing her as men in Kings Landing had … no, this was something else, and that made her all the more uneasy.

Her time at Kings Landing had made her able to read people _a lot_ easier. Men leering at her? That she knew. But Locke? With almost a smile on his lips, and those dark eyes constantly flickering to her? That she couldn't read, and that was worrisome.

"We'll have to, don't want to kill the horses" He said with a nod, "And stop looking at him"

"You noticed?" She said with a little gasp, thankfully quiet enough, though Jon did glance over his shoulder, though covered it by nodding at another of his brothers. He was good she realised, she could tell he didn't like to lie, to hide, just as their Father hadn't, but Jon could, unlike Father.

"Yes, I notice a lot" He said, and Sansa realised then that he did, as he reached down to place a hand on his sword, "I'll keep you safe Sansa" He looked at her then, and the genuine earnestness in his eyes near made her own eyes water … it had been a long time since she had seen that look on well … _anyone_.

"I know" She said with a small smile before nudging her horse forward, for she did know, she knew Jon would keep her safe, just as she would do her best to do the same for him. They would keep each other safe.

"Just stay close to me" He said, a grim expression on his face, she nodded at that as they picked up a pace, the other of Jon's brothers following, he didn't have to tell her twice, she'd stick by his side, as though a glove.

* * *

They picked up a pace through the Haunted Forest, and as creepy as it was thankfully they didn't come across anything nefarious. One of Jon's brother shot a rabbit, and another handed her a water skin with a grunt. It continued to get colder, and she smiled at Jon as he handed her a spare cloak.

It was strangely uneventful for a while, considering they were Beyond the Wall.

Beyond the Wall … she had never thought she'd end up here. She wondered what her Mother would think, Robb would probably laugh himself silly at the idea! She imagined Cersei, face twisted, shocked she had been brave enough to flee to such a hostile place, Tyrion likely would have laughed, if Tywin had heard this in a report he likely wouldn't have believed it. She felt a swell of pride again that she had escaped the capital; she had made it to Jon, by herself, and now here she was! Ranging Beyond the Wall!

Perhaps she was brave …

She liked to think Arya would smile, pester her with a dozen questions, Bran would also, tugging at her skirt, her Father would be worried but she liked to imagine he'd be proud, proud that she'd rescued herself. She smiled across at Jon then, she didn't need to imagine what he thought, she'd seen the pride on his face when she'd told him what she'd endured, along with worry and concern, but pride.

" _You're strong"_ He'd whispered to her as they held one another after swapping tales.

Perhaps she was…

"Sansa" She was shook out of her thoughts then as Jon spoke, and she turned to him with a small smile, pulling her cloaks closer. It was truly cold, and yet Jon didn't seem too bothered, it seemed one did get used to it, not that she could imagine ever getting used to such a chill, though it didn't seem to bother Jon at all.

She did notice though some of his brothers still shivered, none handled it like Jon who barely even seemed to notice it.

She looked ahead then as he nodded his head in that direction and she gasped unable to hold it back. There was a settlement.

"What is this?" She asked, she had clearly let her mind drift, and she tugged her horse closer to Jon's as they approached the village.

Though as they got closer she could see 'village' was a generous word, this looked like a burnt out shell of a village, a wreckage, it couldn't be home to anyone anymore, and she shivered as she thought of what could have done this, to this place. Sure, it was likely no Winterfell to begin with, but this was decimation. What could have done this?

"It is called Whitetree" Jon said, and nodded his head as his brothers moved on ahead, dismounting their horses, "Look"

She managed not to gasp then but her mouth near fell open as she looked forward at what the village had been named for. A Weirwood tree, huge, perhaps bigger than the one in the Winterfell Godswood, certainly bigger than any other tree she'd seen. It was gnarled, twisted, _huge_. She felt so small in comparison, like a bug would feel to her.

"It's amazing" She knew she was speaking in awe, and Jon nodded as he nudged his horse forward, reaching for her reigns to tug hers forward, clearly noting she was distracted and so leading her ahead.

"Aye" He said as he came to a stop then, just inside the village, "Shame the village isn't anymore"

"What happened here?" She asked as she managed to tear her gaze from the Weirwood, back to the village that wasn't really a village anymore. She could see there was no evidence of a fire, the snow having buried it, but clearly houses here had been put to torch, and more perhaps.

"Not sure" He said as he dismounted his horse, she followed suit as he tied their horses to the same post, "Used to be a Wildling village but it's been abandoned for years. Last time I came by here I refused to make camp, it unsettled me, but we'll need to, to make it to Crasters in good time, as much as I don't like it"

"What if whatever destroyed the village comes back?" She asked her eyes flickering then, looking over the burnt out houses, where brothers were now making camp, using what little shielding was left to set up a place to rest for the night.

"If they do" He sighed then, looking over at the village, "Then the mutineers at Crasters are the least of our problems" He looked grim then, and in that moment he reminded her of her Father, so serious, so committed to his duty, and she felt that terrible pull of guilt for taking him away from it all, from his duty.

Still not enough to insist he stay though.

Perhaps some of her selfishness remained, so much of her had changed since leaving Winterfell, but perhaps she was still selfish. She didn't like that so much, but it was easier to accept than the idea of leaving Jon.

"Come on" He said then, breaking his gaze to look back at her, "Lets find somewhere to make a camp, we'll rest here for a few hours and then move on" He nodded, and she reached forward to take his hand. Thankfully, Locke wasn't in sight, but she regardless wasn't leaving Jon's side, and he clearly had no intention of leaving hers as he steered them to one of the more in-tact shelters.

His hand in hers felt like a comfort, as she followed him to a nearby house (though again house was generous, it was a husk but thankfully the roof and three walls remained standing), and she pulled closer to him.

She did feel guilt for taking him away from his duty, his brothers, but also … she couldn't imagine going on without him. She may have saved herself from Kings Landing and she would be forever aglow with pride for doing so, but she knew from now, she needed someone, she couldn't do it alone … she needed Jon.

It was easier to set the guilt aside when she imagined leaving him, how cold and empty it made her feel. She could ignore her guilt then when she knew she needed Jon with her.

She did, and as she glanced at him, so weighed down by duty, such a burden on his shoulders … she liked to imagine that perhaps he needed her too.

* * *

A few hours later and there was a bite to the air more so than before.

He'd wrapped three cloaks around Sansa and she'd finally managed to fall asleep, shivering, curled up next to him, her feet digging into his calf as he sat up, back against the shelter. She looked pale as snow as she huddled under the blankets, but thankfully she was sleeping.

It was an odd sight, to see Sansa, the girl who'd dreamed of Knights and tourneys and painted shields, shivering Beyond the Wall. He felt both conflicted he hadn't been able to prevent it, and proud that she was managing it.

She was clearly cold, tired, and scared, and yet she stood by his side, didn't complain, and had even promised to protect him, taking it all in stride and continuing on.

Out of the two, pride was winning out.

His mind was elsewhere though as well, he felt like he had a million things he had to focus on, and they were all at war with one another.

_Protect Sansa._

_Stop the Wildlings._

_Keep Sansa safe._

_Stop the Others._

_Take Sansa away._

_Protect his brothers._

_Protect Sansa._

Part of him felt beholden to his duty, to remain at the Wall, stop the Wildlings, hell perhaps try to make peace with them, for he knew, he remembered Old Mormont's wise words, _'the true enemy'._ They had a true enemy to face, and he felt his duty was to remain here, to stop them, the storm, the darkness, the _Others_.

But then, there was Sansa, who clearly had superseded all duty in his mind. Part of him knew he should stay here, fight, likely die, go down swinging for honour and duty, but now Sansa had shown up, and any thought of giving his life to protect the Wall was gone.

Aye, he'd still give his life if need be, but this time it was for Sansa.

He couldn't leave her, he couldn't. He'd sat out once before and now Father was dead, head from his shoulders, Robb was dead, dumped in the Riverland's, body desecrated, Bran and Rickon gone too, he shivered when he thought of such a fate for Sansa. He hadn't been able to prevent his brothers nor Fathers early demise, but he was sure as hell going to stop Sansa from meeting such a fate.

Another chill picked up in the air, but he knew it was normal, the cold barely bothered him anymore. He saw Sansa nudge closer and he let out a small sigh as he looked across the village, at brothers slumbering – bar one.

Likely Locke thought he couldn't see him, for he was tucked in such a way to be hidden back. And yet, he hadn't scouted, hadn't seen the slight tear in one of the coverings on the wall of their shack, which gave way to a crack in the wooden frame, revealing Locke, eyes on them, watching, waiting.

Waiting for what Jon didn't know, but he knew he wouldn't let him accomplish it.

It had been odd to see the man so readily volunteer for the mission, few would volunteer for this, let alone a new brother, new to the Wall. If he were generous, he would think it was for glory, or because he was committed to being a brother, but as Locke watched them, not realising he could see, as he sharpened his knife as he watched, Jon knew he wasn't here for the Watch, it was something else.

Something he'd need to figure out, to keep Sansa safe. And failing that, well he would just do the easier thing. To keep Sansa safe, he would.

With a small sigh he looked away from Locke, he knew the man wouldn't try anything here, there were too many brothers, too many people who may be sleeping but would be woken easily. Jon imagined he'd wait, wait perhaps for the battle at Crasters Keep for whatever he intended.

Jon had a good mind for tactics, it had been the easiest thing he'd picked up in Maester Luwin's lessons and at the Wall he had discovered he had a true talent for it, alongside swinging a sword. He knew Locke would wait until chaos had erupted whilst dealing with the mutineers to strike in whatever he intended with Sansa.

Jon felt his blood boil a little then, but took a deep breath to calm himself down, he couldn't lose his head, he had to remain calm if he wanted to keep Sansa safe and kill the mutineers.

"Jon?" He looked down then, at Sansa, eyes slowly opening, her lips almost blue. He had forgotten how harsh the cold was here, he was so used to it, but Sansa was showing him just how freezing it was Beyond the Wall, and it wasn't even snowing yet.

"Are you alright?" She asked gently and he offered her a small smile, he thought of how much more selfless she had become, asking him if he was okay whilst she shivered in an abandoned wildling camp. How she had changed.

Some for the good perhaps, but he would rather have her snotty and stuck-up if he could take away just what had made her a little kinder. Some experiences perhaps should be forgotten.

"I'm fine" He said with a nod, and leant down to pull the cloaks a little around her, "Get some more rest"

"What about you?" She asked then, shuffling a little closer to him, for warmth, and he complied, placing a hand on her back, rubbing up and down to offer both warmth and hopefully some level of comfort.

"I'll keep watch" He glanced sideways again then, Locke had gone into the shack, but Jon was no fool, the man likely couldn't hear their words but could hear talking. Jon knew he was listening in, thankfully the wind would muffle their words.

"Locke?" Sansa asked in a whisper, she was clever, but then Sansa always had been, that hadn't changed, perhaps she had gotten cleverer even.

He just nodded, and she shivered a little.

"I won't let anything happen to you" Another promise, and unlike his one to his brothers, one he intended to keep.

_Protect Sansa._

"I know" That warmed him more than a cloak could; her faith in him, her constant faith.

That was what he needed as Sansa settled back down, half hiding under the cloaks, his hand rubbing her back as the night crept on. He settled down himself for a few short hours as Ed took over the watch, but quickly he awoke.

And it was time to move on.

* * *

Over the next day as Whitetree disappeared behind them and the cold somehow got worse, it was again rather uneventful.

Snow began to fall from the sky, soon thick and leaving an untouched layer behind them. The cold grew worse but she did find herself adjusting (though she still wore two cloaks to hold off the shivers), and Jon did not leave her side, not for a second.

She wasn't sure what his plan was when they got to Crasters, but Locke continued to glance at her, Jon kept a hand on his sword, and she knew to trust he had a plan and would keep her safe.

 _Safe_.

It was something she hadn't felt in a long time, and yet she felt safer here, Beyond the Wall, marching towards mutineers and wildlings, she felt safer here than she ever had in Kings Landing. She felt safer surrounded by the brothers of the Nights Watch than she had around the Kings Guard.

It felt good to feel safe again, and with Jon by her side she did. She trusted him, which felt odd in itself, and it made her a little sad, that now trusting someone to her seemed a little bit like weakness.

' _We're all liars here'_

Had she become on herself? Had Kings Landing moulded her to be distrustful and deceitful? It certainly had hardened her, and she now read people a lot easier, but had, it had more of an effect on her than she could imagine?

She didn't know, and that alone was worrying.

What she did know was that she trusted Jon, she did, and as they marched through the snow, the flurries picking up, the sky darkening, and she knew soon they'd be settling in again, before setting off early tomorrow, to reach Crasters at nightfall.

Tonight, she'd ask Jon about his plan once they reached Crasters, she didn't doubt he had one, she just needed to know it. She wasn't a child anymore; she could be in the know, she needed to be even if they were both to survive tomorrow. Survive and run away…

Soon they reached another settlement, this one somehow worse than the last, barely a standing structure, but soon the brothers were digging out the snow, unearthing some shacks and small pieces of shelter. Jon found them a barely standing piece of wall that would keep the worst of the snow off, and she soon settled down, covered in cloaks again.

They ate quickly, rations, drank quickly and then settle down.

But Jon remained sitting as he had the night before, however this time she tugged on his arm, she wasn't allowing that, not tonight.

"Lie down" She said, she glanced around and could just see Locke, evidently the cold was getting to him too as for the first time he was ignoring them and had taken a chance on a small, wrecked house further away, that made her feel a little easier.

"I need to keep watch" So stubborn, just like Father. She remembered her Mothers insecurities that Jon looked more like her Father than any of Eddard Starks trueborn sons, as Sansa looked up at Jon with that stubborn set to her lip, she felt her Mother might have been right.

He was the epitome of a Northern man, dark hair, grey eyes, paler skin than the South, a scar or two on his face and likely more elsewhere. His accent had even thickened at the Wall, and he held himself like a Northerner. Hard set, never quite relaxed, tough, strong.

It was his personality too, he was different now, just as she was, but she could see he'd held onto those Northern qualities. _Honour, duty, morals_. There was more there now though, a strong mind for tactics, a smarts he had, had at Winterfell but much improved upon, an ability to laugh a little more … she wondered who had taught him that, and felt a tug.

"Not tonight, you'll need your strength" She said with a shake of her head and pulled his arm again, she was a little surprised when he relented and settled down next to her but pleased.

She lifted the cloaks then and near gasped as a chill sought to chase in the gap, thankfully Jon pulled them down quickly, though she had to lift them again for her original purpose, to cover Jon with them too. It made her colder, but she didn't care, she wanted to keep Jon safe now, like he was doing for her.

"Sansa" Jon said, and she grabbed him as he tried to edge away. Had he always been this selfless? Part of her hoped not, considering how awfully she'd treated him as children.

Guilt nipped at her again, would it be her constant companion going forward?

_Father, Mother, Robb, Arya, Bran, Rickon, Jon … my fault._

She tried to shake those thoughts away as she pulled Jon under the cloaks and found it a little easier as he ceased grumbling and settled down next to her. Huh, normally the guilt would consume her, tonight it hadn't.

"You make me warmer anyway" She said, shuffling closer to him, and she could feel him roll his eyes before he too shuffled closer, and she did feel a little chase of warmth that she hadn't felt since they had left the Wall.

The guilt remained at bay, and the warmth ran a little deeper, and they were both thanks to Jon. She had much to thank him for, and knew as he settled down next to her, and her head found her way to his shoulder, and his lolled soon atop of hers, there would be more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo thoughts?
> 
> lots of introspection here, and some foreshadowing for something to come! did anyone spot it? anyone?
> 
> I do hope you enjoyed, this chapter was longer than the last and the next should be even longer - the battle! (or maybe I'll taunt y'all with more just there jonsa? jks ... maybe).
> 
> anywho subscribe for updates!
> 
> speak soon


	6. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we gooo.
> 
> honestly this chapter was so hype to write, nothing more than pls enjoy.
> 
> songrecs: about her - malcolm mclaren (kill bill vol 2, best tarantino movies - kill bill, fyi).

When she woke the snow had stopped and still the chill persisted in the air. Yet, she found herself a little more used to it – sure it was still _awful_ , and she had to rub her hands together quickly under the covers to get some circulation back, and she knew her lips were a little blue and there was ice in her hair and her feet felt a little numb, but she felt she was adjusting, slowly yes, but adjusting.

She smiled to herself then, it was a small accomplishment, but an accomplishment all the same. She was tougher than she'd known, and it felt good to know that now.

It was then she thought of Arya.

She imagined her sister would be extremely jealous that she was galivanting Beyond the Wall with Jon, and she imagined she'd also be shocked. A twinge of guilt hit her as she thought of Arya, of how poorly she'd treated her, of what an awful sister she'd been. She hoped Arya was alright, and part of her believed she was, especially now.

' _The little rat is probably dead'_

' _No way a little girl like her could survive out there'_

' _Hopefully, she died quick'_

' _I hope she suffered'_

Just a handful of the words she'd heard from the Lannisters and their guards about Arya. She once had believed her dead, had prayed for her souls' rest to the Old Gods, had mourned her, but perhaps she had underestimated her little sister.

If she could survive shivering Beyond the Wall, surely Arya, _always_ the tougher and braver of the two could survive in the South, dodging bandits and Lannisters, perhaps planning to make her own way North to Jon.

And so, her guilt gave away to some hope, that maybe Arya was alive, maybe they would even find her when this was over, she knew Jon would want to, and she did too, to make amends, to find another of the Stark pack, to reunite with her sister. It gave her hope.

A little shuffling next to her snapped her out of her introspection and she turned to look at Jon, fast asleep, which surprised her, she was pleased to see he was getting rest (for she knew he needed it), but as she glanced at him, she could see even in sleep he looked troubled.

His brow was drawn, his lips drawn into something akin to a scowl, and she knew she was sleeping only lightly, she imagined if she so much as nudged him he'd wake, and so she tried to stay still. She knew despite her protests Jon had probably stayed awake long after she had fallen asleep to keep watch, and so she didn't want to interrupt any sleep he might be getting.

She knew for the fight to come he'd need his rest.

She realised then when Jon woke, she'd need to ask him about what his plan was for the battle. No doubt he had a plan to charge in, kill the mutineers and ensure the Wall would be in a slightly better place when he fled with her, but what was his plan for her?

Did he plan to hide her somewhere? She glanced around then and saw Locke, asleep by the looks of it, but still very much a threat. No, she didn't imagine Jon would leave her behind, not unless he killed Locke first, and even then there was still a risk a lone wildling or one of the mutineers could find her.

She shivered then, she had endured abuse in Kings Landing, and though she felt much safer here, with Jon, she knew any lone encounter Beyond the Wall with a wildling or a mutineer would surpass any abuse she'd received in the Capitol, and that was saying something.

So, what would Jon do?

"It'll be okay Sansa" She jumped as she heard his voice, and realised she'd woken him. She felt a tinge of guilt as she saw the dark circles under his eyes, and how he was still clearly quite tired, but she felt relieved to have him awake now, so she could ask him of his plan.

"Will it?" She whispered, she wasn't doubting Jon, of course not, but there was so much outside of their control, so much they couldn't command.

"Aye" He said, and then he pulled her into a hug, either because he could sense how cold she was, or perhaps he realised she needed the comfort. Either way she was happy whatever reason he had followed.

She tucked her head under his chin and wrapped her arms around him, his holding her tight. She felt warmer almost immediately and had to resist the urge to fall back asleep. A small sigh of contentment left her lips, it was a comfort she hadn't known in a long time.

"I won't let anyone hurt you" He promised again and she nodded. Again, she didn't doubt that, but even Jon couldn't control everything.

"What about the battle?" She asked, drawing back, even against her desire to stay warm and comfortable. She needed to be focused and the warmth of Jons hold was making her sleepy.

Jon nodded then, evidently, he'd been thinking about it too, "It's difficult, ideally I'd hide you somewhere and then come and get you, but that could prove dangerous, but so could keeping you by my side" He sighed then, sitting up, running a hand through his hair.

She hated herself for causing him such stress. She thought of Arya again. Jon wouldn't be worrying about hiding Arya during a battle, no, she'd be at his side, sword in hand. She couldn't do that, and for the first time she felt jealous of her little sister.

Sometimes being a perfect Lady had its limits.

She wanted to proclaim she could fight, that he didn't have to worry about her, she had the dagger he gave her after all, but unfortunately she knew she couldn't. There was no use pretending here, not with her life at stake. She had never swung a sword, never slashed with a dagger, she'd have no idea what she wad doing, and she'd likely put Jon in more danger.

She wouldn't be able to live with herself if Jon got hurt protecting her.

"I think hiding is the best idea" She said with a nod, "You hide me, in plain view of Locke, and then I'll go and hide in a different spot, one we plan" Jon nodded then, it was as good a plan as any, hell it was all they had.

"I can protect myself" She said, "I promise"

Jon smiled at her then, but she could see it was full of concern. This time she pulled him into a hug, and snuggled back into the warmth of his arms, her eyes closing, worry beating at her heart. Battle was to come.

* * *

The snow grew heavier the further North they got, and Jon was on alert, high alert.

Normally in this situation; Beyond the Wall, marching to Crasters, wildlings and worse not too far away, he'd be tense, but now it was worse, now the stakes were higher, now he had someone to protect.

He glanced over at Sansa, who was looking cold and a bit downtrodden but rallying. He could see her nose was pink, and she was so deeply bundled into his spare cloak she was almost lost under it, but she continued to nudge her horse forward, she continued to fight, to persevere.

Oh how far she had come.

He remembered her as a child, snooty, snobbish, a perfect little Lady so disparaging of bad manners and a bad birth. She had been her Mothers clone, they had barely been siblings because of her disdain for him. He didn't blame her for it, she had been a child, an easily swayed, desperate for approval child. He had been the same in many ways, seeking approval as she had.

But now he glanced over at her and he saw that change. The air of arrogance had gone, the upturn to her nose vanished, the pretty Lady like smile was still there but less innocent.

He hated himself for that. He'd have her back snob and all if he could undo what had stolen her innocence.

He remembered the morning, when she'd cuddled into him, clung to him. Oddly, it had reminded him of Ygritte for a minute, as she'd held onto him, her red hair splashed against the white backdrop.

_'Kissed by fire'_

They had parted, she reluctantly and he too. Ygritte had given him excitement, but Sansa gave him comfort, and he had been just as reluctant to leave the hug as she had, not least because it had been warm, but mainly because it had been comforting.

But still, they had needed to march on. The brothers were tired but like Sansa, rallying and prepared for what was to come. Ed was talking tactics with Gren upfront, Locke skulked nearby, and several of his brothers were like him, eyes sharp, muscles tended, ready.

They were only a few hours ride from Crasters now. Jon knew they'd make it just after nightfall. There was so little day this far North, sun barely touched the snow, darkness would take over before they descended on the mutineers, that he knew for certain.

"Are you alright Jon?" She asked gently, thankfully the snow was not quite a blizzard and so he didn't struggle to hear her over the light drift of it.

"Tense" He admitted, for he was. Both for the fight to come and for the idea of having to leave Sansa unprotected.

Of course he knew he had to. He had entertained the idea for a minute or two of just having her stick to his side, but he knew that would ultimately cause more damage than good. He wouldn't fight as well in trying to protect her and she'd be in more danger if she got in the way.

No, having her in close combat was too risky, all it took was one stab or a slash and she could be dead. It wasn't worth the risk.

But then he knew hiding her away was a risk too. He glanced at Locke, just ahead but trying inconspicuously (and failing), to keep an eye on them, and then he glanced in the general forward direction. She was in danger from those among them and from the strangers, wildlings and more. He hated the idea of leaving her alone, to fend for herself, but he knew it was the safest of the two plans.

He glanced over at her again, she had a dagger at her hip. He was tempted to give her his sword but he doubted she could even lift it. He would make more use of it than she would, but he hated leaving her so unprotected.

Part of him considered asking a brother to stay with her, he knew Ed and Gren had caught on who she was, but they needed every fighter to take on the mutineers, and he didn't trust any of the other brothers to watch her.

She offered him a smile then, a little nervous but a sweet smile. It gave him a flutter of warmth and he offered one back, though his was still strained. He could see Sansa still retained a hint of that innocence, still the sweetness to her smile and the gentleness in her eyes, still there, even after what she'd endured.

He wouldn't let her lose those last vestiges of innocence on his watch.  
 _  
_ _'And now my watch begins'_ _  
_  
As one watch ended perhaps another had begun for him. As he abandoned one vow, he took up another. Again, he looked over at Sansa, bundled under his cloak as the sky began to darken, and he knew, with a grim determination, this would be a vow he would not break.

* * *

The moment she knew they had arrived was when the brother at the forefront of the march came to a stop. Horses reigns pulled, a quick slide in the snow, a hand held up that they could just make shadow of in the darkness.

"There" Jon whispered, nudging his horse closer to hers, lifting his arm up to point. "See?"

She had to strain her vision to make out what he was showing her, not so used to tracking figures, shapes or people in the dark as he was, but as she focused, followed the line he pointed to for her she could just about see; a flicker of a fire out front, a light in a window, and a Keep, just barely visible through the dark and snow, but there.

Crasters Keep.

Nerves jumped in her belly as she realised they had arrived, they had made it. She felt an odd combination of worry that the battle had come, that soon Jon would leave her, that she'd need to fend for herself, and relief that they had made it, that Jon could help his brothers as she knew he was so desperate to do, as this was another step forward in their journey.

As they had marched through the cold she had realised as soon as this was done, this would be it. They'd march back to Castle Black, flee in the night, and make their own way. Soon, it would be just the two of them, possibly the last two Starks in the world. What would they do? She didn't know, but she felt a deep sense of safety and excitement when she knew soon it would just be them, just the two of them, free and together.

That was the most important thing - together. She didn't care where they went, as long as Jon was by her side.

_'Now and always'_

They crept closer, the only sound now the gentle break of the horses hooves in the snow. There was no chatter, no talk, no one even dared to light a torch. They snuck forwards, under the cover of the dark, under the cover of the snow, they were silent, approaching.

Sansa glanced at Jon as they approached, he looked determined, but not worried. She wondered how many times he'd done this since she'd seen him last, how many times he'd marched into battle, how many times he'd crept up on the enemy. She felt nerves roll in her gut as she thought of him facing the mutineers.

She had to trust he would be okay, he was Jon, strong, tough, fast, surely, he would be okay.

He had to be.

"Sansa" He spoke in a whisper and she near jumped, it was the only sound across the expanse as they crept closer to the Keep, sliding down from their horses, tying them to trees, and taking places crouched behind the twisting barks, hiding in the branches. She turned her head to Jon, "Do you see that?"

He was pointing again, this time not at the Keep, but just next to it, a little cabin next to the main building, likely the stables. The snow was thick here, piled up against the doors, she knew she wouldn't enter the stables, too closed in, too dangerous, _no way out_ , but when she followed the point of Jon's finger, he was pointing not at the door but to the side of it.

"So, hide behind the stables?" She dropped her voice to a whisper and Jon just nodded in response. Locke still ahead of them, and she knew that was the best plan, hide next to the fight. No one would suspect her of being behind the stables, there was no reason to, and so she could cower there whilst Jon did his job.

And then he would come back to her, he had to come back to her.

Didn't he?

They kept in place for a moment, no one spoke, no one diverted from watching, waiting, Jon stuck by her side, and silence continued over the forest, well until Crasters became clear along the forest line.

They were close enough to hear some crying, yelling, the shouting of men, she could see the flickering fire, see the men stood outside drinking, and a woman or two huddled over hurrying past. She felt sorrow pierce her heart, it reminded her of Joffrey almost, the abuse, the hatred, the hurt. Once again, she was thankful and proud to have escaped that.

She hoped after tonight the women stuck at Crasters Keep would escape it as well. No one deserved that life, no one.

"I count 11" One of Jon's brothers returned to stand near them, voice low, whispering, clearly, he had scouted. Jon nodded, there weren't as many brothers as mutineers, but she felt a little better that Jon didn't look too worried or scared.

Once Jon had brooded, nervous and insecure, now he looked fierce, determined. It warmed her heart to see him have come so far, to see him facing down battle, murder, death, with such certainty and a lack of fear. She felt that bloom of pride for him that she had for herself, though it was certainly coloured with worry.

"It'll be alright" Jon said, as his brother hurried back to the front, and she realised Jon was talking to her, had turned to her, and she turned to look at him. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she realised she was shaking, not from the cold, but from fear.

"Will it?" She whispered, she hated sounding so weak, but for all Jon looked determined and brave, she knew she looked terrified.

Not necessarily of what happened to her, that wasn't even on her mind, but she was scared what would happen to Jon.

"Aye" Jon nodded, and she leaned into him, and it felt as natural as anything when he dipped forward to place a kiss on her forehead, kind, tender and gentle. She couldn't remember the last time someone had been like that with her, and her trembling stopped. "I'll make sure of it" She nodded, for she believed Jon, trusted him.

Surely if he said it would be okay, it would be. Surely?

"We'll approach, and you should peel off, don't make a fuss, sound or goodbye" Jon said, as they began to creep forward, horses left tied to the trees, keeping low, she followed Jon's lead, couldn't resist reaching her hand forward to grip his cloak, hiding behind him almost.

She felt weak, but she wasn't stupid, she was no fighter, no leader, this wasn't her area, this wasn't her fight, should she feel weak when she knew this wasn't her expertise? Perhaps, but it didn't stop her from holding onto Jon as they approached.

"Go, now" Jon said in a whisper, and she could see his eyes fixed to Locke, who was approaching in the main group, Jon turned to look at her, "Run around, now"

She hesitated for a moment, just a moment, but nodded as Jon urged her, she felt the shaking start again then, fear, terror, she didn't want to leave Jon, either in case something happened to her, or more importantly, something happened to Jon.

The nod he gave her as she peeled away, as he joined his brothers, it reassured her some as when the brothers crept forward, she instead turned to the side, and rather than running at the Keep as the brothers soon were, she was dashing down the side, cloak pulled tightly around her, hood up, making a break for the side of the stables.

She paused just for a second to look back, as Jon ran forward, leading the charge. Again, she felt that bloom of pride, and a dreaded curl of fear as she heard the clanging of blades, the yelling of the mutineers, the cries of the brothers. Her shoulders shook as she hurried along the side of the stables, to her hiding place.

She had to get to her hiding place.

She heard voices, muffled as she hurried past the wood, crouched a little, she heard hurried footsteps, and as quick as she had run down the side she quickly darted behind the stables (which she realised now was more of an outhouse). Her shoulders shook as she shrunk to sit in the snow, her breathing heavy, her head tipping back against the wood, her trembling refusing to cease.

She heard a scream, she heard the clash of metal, and she urged herself to stay calm, to know that Jon would be alright, to stay relaxed, not to panic.

It didn't work.

When was the last time she had felt so scared? Perhaps just before her Father had lost his head, or when Joffrey had beat her? But no, even her experiences in Kings Landing with the Lannisters didn't compare to this. There she'd always been at threat of beating, of nastiness, of abuse and torment, but hearing Jon, fighting, brawling, maybe even _dying_ (she hated herself for thinking that and tried to shake such thoughts from her head), that was worse. Much worse.

She shook her head, trembling, shaking, as she heard some clanging in the outhouse behind her, she didn't move, she didn't speak, she just sat, filled with fear.

Would Jon be okay?

_Jon, Jon, Jon._

"Oh, he's fine"

A gasp of horror left her lips as she quickly stumbled to a standing position. She hadn't realised she'd been saying Jon's name out loud, but as she managed to pull herself to a standing position, still shaking like a leaf, near tripping over the cloak Jon had given her, she realised she had been muttering his name out loud to herself, and she also realised (quite quickly) that her worries for Jon were the least of her immediate concerns.

"But you" Locke said, grinning now, so sinister, it was then, as he approached, that she realised her hood had fallen, her bright red hair splashed against the backdrop of the white cold air, even in the dark, "You might not be"

She should run, she knew she should, but where? She didn't know where Jon was, she didn't know where to go, who to trust. She felt the dagger at her hip, the one Jon had given her, and she pulled it out, holding it as she tried to remember Jon doing, or Robb or even Arya, holding it forward. She doubted she made an intimidating picture though.

"Stay back" She managed to stumble out, but she knew she sounded just as scared as she was.

Locke laughed and she knew she must look foolish, terrified.

"How sweet" Locke mocked, and she felt herself shaking as she tried to hold the dagger, as she tried to stay standing, even as she felt the urge to faint, "A pretty highborn girl trying to play at protecting herself" He took a step forward then and she one back, but there was nowhere to go.

_At least let Jon be okay._

That was all she could think.

_At least let Jon be okay._

"Don't worry" Locke jeered, another step forward, she took another step back but felt herself bump into the outhouse.

_Nowhere to go._

"I won't kill you, no, no, you're going to get me a very nice reward" He grinned then, and she felt that fear fly through her. Perhaps death would be better than being a captive again, than going with him surely to what would be another prison, another cage. The false brother took another step forward, laughing, "A very nice reward"

She didn't have the bravery to turn the dagger on herself, but she knew she could do no damage with it to anyone. She held it aloft but what could she do?

 _Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nothing._ Playing at protecting. He was right.

She didn't even scream for Jon, for the battle, the fight, so loud, she doubted he'd hear.

_Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nothing._

"Now don't struggle" Locke said, a step closer, inches away from her now, "It is a long journey back to the Dreadfort after all"

Her eyes widened then, and that was enough.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion, as she realised what Locke intended, as she realised, she would rather die here in the snow than be at the mercy of the Boltons, the Red Kings, notorious and dangerous. Better to die here in the calm, than be flayed there.

It was all rather slow, as she finally opened her mouth and screamed, " _Jon_!" She was loud, not loud enough, but that didn't matter.

She cried out for him, for Jon, and as she did so Locke went to take that final step, that final inch forward to grab her.

He never made it.

A whistle of wind ripped through the air, and to her it sounded even louder than her scream, and then all she saw was a flash of white, flying through the air in a leap, to Locke, taking him down, into the snow. As Locke fell, so did she, into a pile on the floor, a scream leaving her lips. She fell, the black cloak fanning across the white snow, but unharmed, _okay_ , dagger rolling from her hand. Fallen, but okay, _somehow_.

Locke was not so lucky.

She watched the wolf, as he ripped into Locke's neck, blood spraying across the ice. Locke only managed one scream and then a faint gurgle as the wolf efficiently tore into his jugular, leaving him dead in seconds, no fanfare, no prolonged suffering, just dead, eliminated, gone.

Something close to a horrified gasp and a relieved choking sound left her lips. That he was dead, black against white, crow in the snow. _Dead_.

And then the wolf turned to her.

Yet, somehow, she felt no fear, not as the pure white beast turned to her, muzzle wet with blood, teeth sharp and on display. She felt no fear, and she even smiled as she saw the eyes, as she made the connection.

"Ghost?"

At his name he approached her, and she in complete relief, laughed, _laughed_ and without any fear looped her arms around Ghost's neck, around the direwolf, the symbol of House Stark, the symbol of them. She collapsed into him, burying her face in his fur, she felt no fear, as Ghost without a sound, always silent, allowed such a thing, just as Lady had, as he allowed Sansa to let out a shaky laugh into his fur, having just defended her.

Jon may have been in the fighting with his brothers, and yet he had protected her all the same.

"Thank you Ghost" She found herself whispering to the wolf, clinging onto him, fingers scratching his ears, and she was rewarded with the thump of his tail, as she held onto that connection to Jon. As she held onto the wolf, the symbol of their noble House, her protector.

And that was where Jon himself found her, huddled behind the outhouse, clinging to his loyal wolf, Locke dead on the ground, blood splashed across the snow, he found her still smiling, trembling still but relieved, relieved as his loyal companion refused to leave her side, as she clung to first Ghost and then Jon, both of them a little bloody, but alive, _alive_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo thoughts?
> 
> GHOST COMING IN WITH THE CLUTCHHHH. I do hope you enjoyed, this was always my plan with this chapter. srry I didn't include jon's mutineer fight but we already know his bit, I will have him reflecting on it next chap tho (I've actually already written that section).
> 
> I do hope you enjoyed, if you did pls let me know! so the mutineer fight is over, what is next? betcha can't guess!
> 
> do let me know your thoughts/guesses (honestly I live for the latter!), and sub for updates
> 
> speak soon


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